


Nervous

by lovemyway (vesper93)



Category: Little Women (2019)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Foreplay, Internalised Misogyny, Loving Sex, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Schmoop, Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesper93/pseuds/lovemyway
Summary: Amy is nervous on her wedding night.
Relationships: Theodore Laurence/Amy March
Comments: 58
Kudos: 432





	Nervous

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So, yeah, not my usual fandom but I just really wanted to write some Amy/Laurie loving... so, this happened. I hope you like it! Try not to drown in all the fluff and schmoop. 
> 
> Love  
> V  
> xxx

Amy could tell that Laurie was watching her as she brushed her hair, the way she would normally do before going to bed in an evening. Or rather, that her maid (when she was with Aunt March), or one of her sisters, would normally do. She didn’t meet his eyes in the looking glass, instead concentrating on counting out the fifty strokes through her blonde tresses, before setting the brush down on the table. Only then did she look up, her eyes meeting his in the glass.

He was sitting on the bed. _Their_ bed, she thought. He’d removed his waistcoat and frock coat, undone his top button on his shirt, removed his cravat, and had placed his cufflinks on the side table. He’d worn one of the newly fashionable three pieces today, with the coat, waistcoat, and trousers all of the same material. It was very much on the rise in Parisian circles, but was taking a little longer to catch on in London. Other than that, he was still fully dressed in his wedding attire, his cheeks still flushed from the dancing at the impromptu party they’d had tonight. Obviously, it had been nothing too extravagant, with Aunt March so sick it would have been utterly unseemly to have a big to-do, but Laurie was determined that they would have some fun on their wedding day, and so had arranged a small gathering in the drawing room of the hotel they were staying in, just outside of London. They were on their way to Southampton, where the boat for home left in ten days. They could have got there much quicker than that, but they had decided to move only at a leisurely pace, Aunt March only a carriage ride a day away if they needed to hurry back to her side.

At her own behest, they had left Aunt March in a convalescent hospital in London, where she was having the best (and most expensive) treatment money could buy. She would arrange for her own trip home, she had said, as and when she felt well enough. She’d also been mildly approving, in her own way, of Laurie proposing marriage, because it would be unheard of for a young unmarried woman to travel alone with a male companion and emerge with her reputation intact. Not that Amy cared overly much for her reputation; she was going home. She was done with European high society, and the airs and graces that went with it. Maybe one day she’d feel a desire to do it all again, but right now the idea of home was pulling on her heart, getting to be with her sisters again, and to see her niece, who hadn’t been born when she had left for Europe, nearly eighteen months ago. She couldn’t wait to sit and gossip with Meg; or to hear Beth play the piano again, or to see Jo -. She was a little anxious of seeing Jo again, wondering what her wild and wonderful sister would think of her marriage. She tried to put the thought out of her head; it was done, so she would meet the test of Jo as and when she had to.

Laurie walked over to the dressing table, and put his hand on her shoulder. She reached for it instantly, holding it in place, and moving her thumb across the warm surface of the back of his hand.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked softly, looking at her in the mirror.

She bit her lip, and felt the heat creeping up her face as she considered the question.

‘Yes, I’m alright,’ she said quietly, ‘It’s just -,’

Laurie didn’t speak for a moment, but instead gave her shoulder a little squeeze, encouraging her to keep going.

‘I’m a little nervous,’ she admitted, and then turned in her chair to face him, looking up at him earnestly, ‘I… I don’t know what to do.’

A flicker of a smile ghosted across his mouth, before he tilted her chin up towards him with his fingers and kissed her softly. As he kissed her, his hands moved to arms and he gently encouraged her to her feet. She stood in his arms for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being so thoroughly kissed she thought her mind might have vacated her body for a second.

He stepped back after a second, his beautiful green eyes gazing into hers, kind, warm, and patient, ‘Did Marmee not explain? Or Meg?’

She blushed again, looking down at her stockinged feet (she’d removed her shoes and put them by the wardrobe as she’d always been taught to do).

‘Marmee said I would know what do when the time came, that it was natural between a husband and wife, and Meg just said that it was lovely,’ she said quietly, her voice tight with mortification. She wished in that moment that she’d asked more, so that now she would know, but it was too late for those sort of regrets.

Obviously, she’d seen animals mating with each other in the countryside, or on the farmyard she had passed on the way to school, but she was fairly sure that that wasn’t how people did it. At least she _hoped_ Laurie wasn’t going to bite her on the neck to get her to hold still. She knew the basic principal; the male puts his… _thing_ … inside of the female. She blushed even harder at the thought of it. It didn’t disgust her; she just didn’t know _how_ , or what to do, or how Laurie would want to do it. 

She heard Laurie smirk, rather than saw it, ‘Well they’re both right, in their own way.’

She wasn’t perturbed by Laurie’s statement. She knew that he’d had other lovers in the past; one mistress had been a wife of some high court judge in Paris and it had caused quite the scandal within the lounges of Paris society. She’d been quite a bit older than him, and apparently had form of taking younger and very attractive lovers during the society season. Of course, nobody really _cared_ , apparently, everybody did it (married women that was, along with men – for an unmarried woman to compromise herself would be the height of stupidity).

‘Well, first things first,’ he said, and gently turned her around, reaching for the buttons on her dress. His legs pressed the voluminous skirts of her cream dress in at the back as he stepped closer. She hadn’t wanted to wear white, because it would make her already pale skin look positively pallid. His hands were gentle, as if he were handling a skittish animal, which, she reasoned, wasn’t overly far from the truth. As he worked on the buttons at the back, she undid the few that held the high collar together, allowing the fabric to fall open. He made a noise of triumph as the last tricky little button came loose and her dress sagged open, allowing her to push it down her arms, before stepping out of it. Now she was stood in her crinoline underskirt, petticoat, corset, and chemise underneath it all. Her underskirt had hoops built into it to help maintain its structure. Normally she would have a maid to help her get dressed and undressed, but as it was her wedding night Laurie had banished her, stating that he wished to be the one to undress his wife. The young girl had blushed beet red, and fled to her own room. Amy would have to have a word with her for propriety and modesty’s sake tomorrow. His hands went to the skirt ties, deftly undoing them, and them helping her step out of the masses of material.

‘This doesn’t seem very fair,’ she murmured, after he had folded them as best he could, placing them away in the corner.

‘Hmmm?’ he asked, looking up from her body, now just clad in her corset and chemise.

‘That I am nearly naked whilst you are fully dressed,’ and then immediately flushed. That was a very forward thing to say, and she hoped he would not think her immodest for the comment. Maybe young women weren’t supposed to talk like that on their wedding night? Maybe she was supposed to be silent and merely let him do as he wished?

‘Well, we’ll have to do something about that then,’ he said, a playful tone to his voice, which made her whole-body flood with relief. Clearly, he wasn’t angry with her suggestion.

‘May I?’ she asked, his words giving her a boost of confidence. He nodded without speaking as she stepped closer and her hands trailed to the buttons on his shirt, deftly undoing them before she lost her nerve. She untucked the shirt tails from his suit trousers, and moved to push his shirt off his shoulders. He stopped her mid action, however, and drew her to him for another deep kiss, his mouth hot and heavy on hers. She’d never imagined that a kiss could feel like this until Laurie had shown her; it gave her a fluttery feeling in her belly, and made her want to never stop kissing him as it made her blood sing.

Somewhere in the kiss, she moved her hands to his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, leaving him bare chested to the room and to her. She’d seen Laurie like this before; when they were younger and would go to the local swimming hole, the same one where she had nearly frozen to death many many years before after the ice had broken (and Laurie had saved her life), but now she couldn’t help but run her hands down his body with the thought that this was _hers_. She could touch where others could not. She could enjoy to her hearts content. This made her smile into his mouth.

‘What?’ he murmured against her lips as he felt her smile.

She shook her head slightly, ‘I just like kissing you.’

He smiled in return, kissing her softly again, ‘Well that’s good, seeing as I plan to do a lot of it, if it’s pleasing to you.’

His hands were heavy on her waist as the broke apart a few inches. She couldn’t help but look down at his body; the slight muscles, not obvious but definitely there. Laurie was not a man who knew any hard, physical labour, but he did undertake a fair amount of sport as required by a gentleman, thus keeping his figure trim and shapely. His pale skin was a marvel to her, dotted with freckles. She wanted to kiss each one. She spotted one on his collarbone and leaned in to kiss it without thinking about it.

‘What was that?’ he asked, a smile in his voice.

‘A freckle,’ she said, blushing, ‘I wanted to kiss it.’

He grinned and finding several of the freckles that dotted her cheeks he kissed each one in turn, before gently motioning her to sit on the bed. She felt a little spike of fear go through her as she sat down, was this it? She didn’t know why she was afraid; this was _Laurie_. He wouldn’t hurt her. Marmee had warned her that it might hurt a bit, but she hoped that it wouldn’t.

He found her stocking ties just above her knees, and letting loose the ribbon, he rolled each one down her legs, until they pooled onto the floor at her feet. Then he directed her to twist slightly, so that he could get at the stays of her corset. It was one of the expensive French whalebone corsets. She had been wearing one half of her life, so it wasn’t uncomfortable, per say, but she certainly noticed a difference when she removed it; her breathing easier and her body more relaxed. She knew that Jo point blank refused to wear one unless she absolutely had to. It was one of the things that Aunt March utterly disapproved of in her older sister; said that it was unseemly, and left her with poor posture and a tendency to slouch when she walked. Jo, of course, didn’t care one iota.

Finally, her corset came free, and she placed it to one side, still turned away from Laurie. Now she was only in her chemise, and was perfectly aware that her body was utterly visible through it, her breasts pushing against the thin fabric. She took a breath for courage, and turned back towards him. He could clearly sense her nerves, as he took both of her hands in his, raised them and kissed them softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

‘Move back,’ he directed gently, ‘Lie on the pillows.’

Her heart thudding in her chest she did as he bid. She wished they could go back to kissing; she knew what to do there, and wasn’t so aware of what she _didn’t_ know. Now she just felt at a loss; all she knew was that Laurie looked beautiful in the firelight coming from the hearth, and that tonight they would be together. That thought calmed her a little.

He crawled onto the bed, and she tensed involuntarily.

‘Relax,’ he soothed, kissing the side of her neck gently, ‘We’re going to take our time, alright? It’s just me.’

‘I know,’ she murmured, ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so nervous.’

‘It’s fine,’ he said softly, ‘I was nervous my first time too. Not knowing what to do is a potent ingredient for nervousness. But we’ll go just one step at a time.’

She smiled at him gratefully. She imagined that there were men out there who would be impatient with her, or worse, simply wouldn’t care, and would just take what they wanted, with little thought of her own feelings or concerns.

He kissed down her collarbone then, until he reached the heart neckline of her chemise, the little fabric buttons the only thing between him and her skin. She knew her chest was rising and falling rapidly, both a mixture of nerves and curiosity; her skin turned a rosy red that was creeping up her neck. She might be nervous, but she did know that she didn’t want Laurie to stop what he was doing; she liked this. His hand cupped her breast through the soft material and he rubbed his thumb across her nipple, which stiffened into a hard nub, visible as a peak through the cotton. She’d felt them do this because of the cold before, but it was warm in here. Her body was responding to his touch; wanting him to keep touching her.

His hands moved to the first button of her chemise, followed by the second, third, fourth… down to her belly button, separating the fabric a little as he went. His mouth followed his hands and she gasped when he took a nipple into his mouth, playing with it with his tongue. She felt a coil of something deep in her belly as he switched to the other, his hands stroking the soft skin of her ribs and belly as his mouth kissed her breasts. She was surprised as he continued downwards, and her blush intensified as he undid the last of the buttons, pushing the two halves of the material apart, so she was completely bare to his view. She clamped her thighs shut as a knee jerk reaction to his gaze, his pupils wide and dark. She’d never seen him look like this before; beautiful and so utterly… _male_. It made her breath catch in the back of her throat as he looked at her.

‘Amy…’ he said, his voice low, ‘You’re so beautiful.’

She couldn’t help but bring her hands up to her face, as if by hiding her blush, it would make one iota of difference and he might not notice. She could feel him stroking her belly and ribs again, gently encouraging her to relax, which she slowly did, drawing her hands away from her eyes. He was looking up at her, his chin resting on her hip bone.

‘I want to kiss you here,’ he said, his hands drifting lower, and she immediately caught his meaning, ‘Will you let me?’

She’d never heard of that before, and couldn’t imagine why he wanted to kiss her there. She knew that that wasn’t what Marmee had meant when she said that men and women came together on their wedding night. But Laurie was her husband, and he wanted to do that, so she should let him. And there must be a reason why he wanted to.

She nodded slowly, and he smiled up at her. His hands stroked down the outside of her thighs, over her hips, moving closer to her sex on each stroke, letting her get used to his touch. She relaxed at each slow comforting movement, each peck of his lips on her hip bones, the slope of her lower belly, her thighs. She tried to retain that relaxation as he gently encouraged her to part her thighs, but knew she was shaking slightly, and then she was utterly exposed to him. She couldn’t help but bring her hands back up to her face, covering her embarrassment at him looking at her _there_. It was mortifying; why had she let him? Did he think she was immoral because of it? Her mind raced as a second or two passed, his warm weight unmoving from between her knees.

But then, she felt his tongue find something between her thighs and her belly tightened again at the sensation that pulsed through her. It made her want to have more of it and shy away from it all at the same time. Whatever he had done, he did it again, before proceeding to kiss, suck and lick at her, using his fingers to continue to stroke the inside of her thighs. Her mind didn’t know what to make of it. Her breathing had become erratic at the sensations she was feeling; she’d never felt anything like this before, it was like an acute flash of something that felt good, and she wanted to cling to that feeling, so much so that she barely noticed when, after a minute, one of her hands left her face, to tangle in his curls, his face between her thighs. He hummed his approval as he felt her fingers tighten in his hair, and she gasped at the sensation that that hum had produced.

‘Laurie!’ she squeaked, unable to help herself.

‘Hmmm?’ he said, looking up to gaze at her; his eyes still dark pools of desire, his mouth swollen and his lips and chin wet. If she’d still had the capacity she’d have been mortified at the thought of what that wetness was; that _she_ was the one who was making that, but her mind was elsewhere at that moment, as he nipped at the soft skin of her thighs, before resuming what he’d been doing. She bent her legs either side of his body, and was aware of the effort she was making not to clamp her thighs about his shoulders in an effort to retain the feelings he was making her experience. Her body shifted, like a boat on the water as she reacted to each new pulse. One of his hands had moved to her hips, to hold her steady as he continued to kiss her down there. She could feel a tightness growing in her lower belly, like a rope that was going to snap if pulled any harder, or a wave that was approaching it’s crest on the rocks. She bit her lip, but her breath was still coming in uncontrolled gasps and little moans she’d never imagined herself making as, in the few seconds before she was sure the sensation would break and shatter, he slid two fingers inside of her, her body taking him easily. He stroked her on the inside, as well as licking the outside and the rope broke, causing her whole body to go tight, her eyes to slam shut, her hips rolling forward of their own accord, a pulse of pleasure flooding in waves from the core of her body out to each of her limbs. She’d never felt anything like it and wasn’t aware of her surroundings for a moment, only on that sensation as she shook with the amazing feeling that flooded through her. Her body continued to pulse for some moments, leaving her feeling weightless and utterly at peace.

When she gathered herself enough to open her eyes, Laurie was lying above her, his weight propped on his elbows either side of her body. She glanced down between them and saw that he’d shed his trousers, kicking them down the bed, and that he was hard and insistent against her thigh.

‘Ready?’ he breathed softly against her mouth. She nodded; after what he’d just made her feel she trusted him completely in this. She widened her thighs to accommodate him further, as he reached between them and guided himself to her sex, where she was utterly wet. She felt him at her entrance; bigger than she’d imagined, and she tried to stay calm; she assumed that this was the moment where it would hurt. He leaned down to kiss her, and whilst she could taste what she imagined was herself slightly, she didn’t care in the slightest as she looped her arms around his back, holding him close as he gently pushed forward into her body.

She was surprised. It didn’t _hurt_ exactly; there was little to no resistance as her body slicked the way for him to slide into her, but she could definitely feel herself stretch to take him; unused to this new phenomenon. She gasped as she felt his hips meet hers a moment later. It was done; he was inside of her, and she’d taken him, with no pain. She felt an odd sense of accomplishment flood her body at the moment as he moved his lips to her neck, his breathing erratic as he began to move his hips in a gentle rhythm. She tangled her hand in his hair again, learning that he liked that and pressed back against him, unsure of exactly what to do, but encouraged by his gasps and grunts against the skin of her neck. She discovered a moment later than if she tightened herself when he pushed in that that made him moan deeply; clearly he really liked that, so she did it again and again, drawing pants of approval from his parted lips.

‘Oh _God_ ,’ he moaned, ‘ _Amy_.’

Never had anyone whispered her name alongside the lord’s before, and she found it utterly intoxicating as her body felt the pleasure from before, still pooling around her. This wasn’t the same though, she didn’t feel that building tightness, but more a languid sort of loveliness that made her want to cling to him.

His thrusts became more insistent after a few minutes, as he claimed her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, wanting more of her in every sense. Then he grunted against her neck, once, twice, as he thrust hard within her, a sort of animalism taking over him for a moment, as his body went taut and she felt him shudder and pulse. She felt him spill inside of her before his body utterly relaxed a few seconds later, his weight heavy and comforting on top of her. She realised that he had felt just then what he had made her feel with his mouth earlier. She briefly wondered if she could feel that way with him inside of her as well, or whether with his mouth was the only way she would be able to do that. She would ask him about it later. She felt a warm contentment wash over her as they lay for a moment; she’d done it, and she’d liked it. She hoped he had too… it seemed like he had. Again, something she would have to ask him later.

Right now, however, he rolled off her, his face flushed and hair in all directions as he looked up at the ceiling. She felt a weird stickiness between her legs, and fought the urge to immediately go and wash herself. He turned to look at her a moment later, a sleepy grin on his face.

‘Hmmm?’ he asked, not needing to say any more.

She rolled into him, leaning up on one elbow to softly kiss his gorgeous mouth, before nodding and replying, ‘Hmmmm.’

He smiled and pulled her close, her head on his chest, the warmth of the hearth, the heat of the bed, and the cocoon of each other encircling them.

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get the balance right between Amy being the confident person that she is, and the level of knowledge that an unmarried woman in the 1860s would have about sex was a challenge. In the end I went with "knows the mechanics (sort of), but not the details." I think Amy would be become much more confident in bed, very quickly, but she needed Laurie to guide her at first, and let her know everything was alright. 
> 
> Further feministy note - virginity is a societal construct, and I have specifically not put anything in here about the MYTH of the "hymen breaking" because a) it doesn't b) fucking ow c) there are so many other reasons why someone might not bleed/have their hymen stretched when they first have sex. If they ride a lot, do sport, use tampons (not applicable in the 1860s but still), or some people are just born without one. Also, if you have plenty of foreplay (yay Laurie!), then hopefully pain should be minimal/none-existent. First time penetrative vaginal sex does NOT have to be painful, but some people may experience mild pain etc. If it's really painful you should see a doctor, because it's not supposed to be. Virginity is bullshit, because if revolves around m/f penetrative sex. Are lesbians virgins their whole lives if they never touch a penis, but have sex with loads of ladies? If a gay man is never penetrated, but has a lot of oral sex, is he a virgin? It's BS. 
> 
> Anyhoo... rant over. Hope you liked the fic! 
> 
> <3


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